When the soothsayer Titus Vestricius Spurinna reportedly warned Julius Caesar to “Beware the Ides of March”, Caesar ignored the premonition, heading to his fate at the Senate house with the confidence that the Etruscan haruspex was nothing more than a crazy old man.

So too have employers been warned of the incredible loss of productivity that begins this very day. According to an audio story published by NPR’s Luke Burbank, corporations will lose an estimated $3.7 billion dollars in the coming weeks. Challenger, Gray & Christmas attempts to quantify this amount each year, calculating that NCAA fans spend, on average, fourteen minutes per tourney website per day for the length of the sixteen day run. And confounding this year’s loss of focus is the fact that CBS Sportsline will - for the first time - offer every single game for free on its tournament website, March Madness on Demand.

Hannah Clark of Forbes feels that the underlying assumptions for the Challenger data may need…well…to be challenged. Her article acknowledges that employers and employees need to be wary given today’s increased monitoring of work-based surfing and the related justification for termination due to unauthorized web visits on the company clock. She adds, however, that questions surrounding the true number of NCAA fans and their web usage may have inflated the estimated loss.

So should employers embrace the frenzy of bracket toting fans or enforce written policy by limiting participation in this year’s tournament? Regardless of your choice, you can’t feign Caesar-like surprise if your bottom line is impacted by the seemingly spontaneous cheers and jeers echoing throughout the corporate halls.

“Et tu, NCAA?”

Let’s keep the conversation going.

Vacation typically provides those moments of quiet reflection lacking in our daily existence. No longer distracted by the connectivity that demands constant responsiveness and interaction, we release the bonds of work and relish in the true priorities of relaxation and precious time with our loved ones. Of course, this can be very difficult if, like me, you travel with every possible electronic gadget, including my newest toy, the Blackberry Pearl.

For years I’ve carried the older brother of the Pearl, a squarish blue model with the right scroll wheel and tiny alphabet of keys. I could be found with T-Rex arms in every possible situation, plugging away at this device like the dot-based football game of my childhood. My wife marvels at the fact that I can type at all, given that my finger pads appear monstrously disproportionate to the miniature keyboard.

Called “crackberrys” by many (and rightfully so), this cause of future carpal tunnel syndrome created a false sense of self-importance – didn’t someone somewhere demand my immediate response and attention? Weren’t future marketing strategies at stake, worlds potentially colliding if not for this wireless savior? We convince ourselves of these justifications every time a buzz and ring triggers the Pavlovian response.

It took a few years for me to realize that the Blackberry is the perfect companion in situations that otherwise seem undesirable or even boring, including (but by no means limited to) – a) waiting outside the ladies restroom with a gaggle of hapless men; b) wandering through the white noise of Sephora while beauty products are collected; c) section B of a Southwest Airlines boarding area ninety minutes before the cattle train departs; and d) eating a quick dinner alone on an endless business trip.

My advice, however, is to turn the damn thing off while on vacation. The typical businessman or businesswoman spends less than five hours a day with their family. When specific time is carved out for dedicated and highly focused connection, they deserve no less than your undivided attention and mindshare. That’s not to say that work isn’t a topic of discussion, for downtime is meant for consideration on your career as well, just don’t bring the losing situation of having to make that “emergency call” or “quick email” to the forefront.

People who know me will cry “Doctor, heal thyself!” and rightfully so. My future promise is that this particular cobbler intends to ensure his loved ones have his best pair of shoes.

Let’s keep the conversation going.